


pallid · · ·

by elleyvn



Series: last fan standing—2k17 [7]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 17:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleyvn/pseuds/elleyvn
Summary: you'll pray that Sasuke isn't a better man than his father, or the rest of your clansmen. than you. —itachi, post-massacre





	pallid · · ·

**Author's Note:**

> written for last fan standing @ dw.  
> prompt: "skipping"  
> canon-compliant / post-massacre

_You will regret this for the rest of your life._

Yes, it was _right_ —as right as cold-blooded murder _can be_ —and yes, it was necessary, but you will never taste anything but blood splatter; never smell anything more than your mother’s tears; never hear anything except your brother’s screams; and, you will never see your father’s face again.

Because you were too afraid to watch the light fade from his eyes. You stabbed him in the back, _like a true shinobi._

The memories are burned into your retinas—scorched into your skin. After you slip past the carefully coordinated armies of ANBU—ROOT, most likely—at your heels, you spend the night staring down the mean side of a cliff leading down into rushing waters. They crash into the sides of the ravine, rolling wildly beneath the moon.

It’d swallow you whole, as it did Shisui.

_You wouldn’t mind._

It would be so easy to vanish. The option remains open for the better part of the night—you talk yourself from the edge more times than you care to count; the memory of Sasuke’s eyes, confused and terrified, is ironically what you draw on the most for strength.

He deserves better than this.

Your chest heaves with the revelation, hiccups slipping out unbidden in the midst of silent cries. It is _the last damn time_ you will allow yourself any measure of _humanity_. There is nothing left but tomorrow; the birth of another dawn in which you’ll pray that Sasuke isn’t a better man than his father, or the rest of your clansmen. Than you.

If he forgives you—no.

_Selfishly, you hope he doesn’t._

You hope he’ll be the one to rip your still-beating heart from your chest—it’s suddenly become too heavy to bear in your body; barely thirteen.

But you’ll carry it with you, for the time being. Lifting your palm to the pulse in your chest, you force yourself to take a step back. Then another; _and another. Another,_ until the cliff has shrunk into a distant scene that you can turn your back on. Only when it is behind you do you wipe away your tears and vanquish that pacifist boy you used to dream of being.

There has never been a place for him, in this world.


End file.
